


If/When

by LoudLucy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Pining, a lil bit o' angst, reconnection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6509935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoudLucy/pseuds/LoudLucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nishinoya wonders about how to reconnect with the person who meant the most to him back in high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If/When

**Author's Note:**

> I've been feeling majorly sentimental recently, and, because of that, this fic was born! Please enjoy!

One Thursday night in his senior year of college, Noya and his college flatmates were talking as they always did. It was a weekly ritual that they had made up for themselves so that they could distract themselves from the stress of school and teams and extracurriculars and just talk about _nothing_ for a bit. Usually the conversations they had flowed effortlessly, but this night, one of his flatmates brought up the concept of meaningful acquaintances. Noya had been the center of the conversation, but he had never even _heard_ of this turn of phrase before.

“Meaningful acquaintances?” Noya asked. It was a hot night, and he took a swig of the cold beer he had fished out of the fridge. The air conditioner hummed laboriously, and Noya craned his head away from it, hoping some more cool air would blow along his neck and cool him down.

“Yeah,” one of his roommates said. “It’s like, somebody that you knew well but don’t talk to anymore, or someone that you didn’t actually know that well but who still had an effect on you.”

“Right,” his second roommate agreed. “Or it’s like someone that you don’t need in your life anymore, but who had an impact on who you are right now.”

The words were like a spell, and an image was conjured in Noya’s mind—soft, long hair; kind, brown eyes which were always so warm in expression despite being on such an intimidating person; a powerful body that wouldn’t hurt a fly; big, strong hands that so expertly nurtured everyone around them. 

“Do you have anyone like that, Noya?”

“Yeah, I think so!” Noya said, trying to sound excited but feeling a little shaken. After his roommates turned their attention back to each other, Noya glanced out the window pensively. It had been at least a year or so since he had seriously thought about Azumane Asahi. Because why would he have thought of him? They had only spent about two years of high school together before Asahi and the rest of the seniors left for university, and then Noya left Miyagi on his volleyball scholarship to Tokyo, and there wasn’t that much tying them together anymore.

They had tried to keep in touch of course, and it was actually probable that Asahi still talked to Suga and Daichi, but as Asahi’s life became consumed by college things he was able to do and the college friends he had been able to make, they just had less and less in common. The relationship that they had with each other became less important. It wasn’t as if they had had a falling out, it was just that, one day, Noya noticed that the tether that was holding them together was gone. They were separate people with separate lives, and, though it felt strange and sad and slightly unsettling, it was okay.  

After all, it wasn’t like he and Asahi had been best friends. They didn’t have any of the same classes, and their friends only intersected on the volleyball team. They had each been closer to other people on the team than they had been to each other. It wasn’t like there hadn’t been anything there—there was certainly a mutual admiration. Noya was no idiot. He knew that Asahi looked up to him in a strange way, and Noya certainly admired Asahi—his power and skill aside, he was kind and considerate and conscientious in a way that Noya had never even been close to duplicating, all while exuding an aura of strength. But they hadn’t been the world to each other, and when they stopped spending time with each other the admiration remained, but the friendship just… _didn’t_.

After a couple more drinks, Noya excused himself and went off to bed, his roommates’ words about meaningful acquaintances still ringing in his head. Because that was what Asahi was, wasn’t it? He was someone who had come into his life for two short years but who had made a huge impact. Asahi was someone who he had _depended_ upon, and who, in turn, had depended on him. Asahi had made him feel important and needed and necessary in a way no one else ever did, just by virtue of playing with him.

Noya still remembered the look that Asahi would get on his face when he made a particularly spectacular receive, and he remembered just how _alive_ that look made him. Despite himself, he always looked to Asahi after a play, and Asahi would always be looking at him, and it was like they didn’t have to say anything; they were always on the same page and their eyes were always conveying the same thing—confidence, resoluteness, consolation, victory, they were always experienced synchronously with Asahi.

Those looks, the claps on the back, the shouted “nice kills” and “nice receives,” those were all small things, but they added up to something so much larger. The feeling of importance, the feeling of being the _center_ of and the _first_ in someone’s life, it had been everything. Because times weren’t always easy for Noya, and there were absolutely periods where he had felt stupid or worthless or irrelevant despite himself.

But Asahi…looking into Asahi’s eyes on the court, in those quiet moments before celebration or loss, he felt like he was worth the whole world. Even if Asahi was immediately forgotten in lieu of Tanaka or Hinata or Ennoshita, he was still the first, the one Noya cared most about in the most important moments, and Asahi felt the _same_. That had been the first connection Noya had ever made like that.

Their connection was mostly on the court though, so it was not a surprise that when they stopped playing together—both times—the strength of their friendship _seemed_ to wane. But remembering… _remembering_ Asahi made Noya realize that the care he had for Asahi had not decreased in the least. Just thinking about those times, thinking about the team that had made his high school experience so special, caused something sudden and powerful to build in his chest—an acute nostalgia for what now seemed like simpler times, a sharp tenderness for the first person to make him feel like he was unique and one-of-a-kind and significant.

Noya turned over on his pillow and was shocked to discover a trail of tears that overflowed from his watery eyes. His lip trembled as he realized the strength of the emotions he was feeling. It was okay, it really was, that he and Asahi were disconnected. Noya was happy, his life felt full, and he was sure that Asahi felt similarly. But that didn’t stop Noya, now reminded of what he had possessed, to feel the absence of it! He felt like there was a fullness in his life that he wouldn’t have had without Asahi, but at the same time, a hole, long ago cut out and long gone unnoticed, that had just started to ache.

The entire flat was quiet enough to hear the cicadas buzzing outside, and it was dark in his room. Noya’s eyes, however, were opened wide, staring at the hand that clapped Asahi’s back, that had saved so many of the blocked balls, the one that had shaken his hand after Asahi’s graduation. He wondered if Asahi had thought about him recently; he wondered if his importance in Asahi’s life was parallel to Asahi’s importance in his.

He was alone in his room, and though he didn’t feel like crying, the tears still slowly fell from his eyes. This realization felt important in a way that his more recent stray thoughts hadn’t. Nishinoya took a deep breath, and clenched his hand. “If I see you again,” he said, voice firm, “I’ll tell you what you meant to me.”

It was a quiet declaration, but it made Noya feel less sad and more grateful for the fact that he had been Asahi’s friend in the first place. The strength of his sentimentality receded, and he felt sleep coming—a promise of exciting dreams about his _old_ volleyball team, about archrivals and kings and crows, the sounds of squeaking sneakers and loudly spoken proclamations beckoning.

Just before he drifted off, Noya squeezed his right hand just a little tighter, thinking of Asahi’s mild smile, his kind eyes. “I promise,” he added for good measure.

It felt right.

 

 

Months passed, and Nishinoya didn’t forget Asahi again. His importance waxed and waned like the moon, but it remained ever-present nonetheless. Even though he had been half-asleep when he had made the promise to himself, Nishinoya remembered it, and fully intended to keep it.

Some days he would be walking to the little convenience store close to his campus and he would see someone tall, maybe even with broad shoulders and long hair, and his heart would skip, seeing its chance, but it was never actually Asahi, and despite himself Noya would find himself feeling disappointed.

Because the truth was he was afraid to reach out. It would have been easy to get Asahi’s number and send him a text, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right. It was unlike him, to fear the consequences of an action—Noya usually acted recklessly and without forethought, and it had worked pretty well for him so far—but something about discovering that he hadn’t been as important to Asahi as Asahi was to him was just too painful to think about. Of course Asahi would remember him, but _how much_ would he remember? How fond would his memories be? 

And it wouldn’t be the same unless it was in person. Noya tried to tell himself that it was courage that was forcing him to wait until Asahi magically appeared again. They had to be together, standing face-to-face, for the force of Noya’s words to really get across. He had to be there to see Asahi’s face as he heard the words. It was a little bit selfish, but Noya let himself have his wish anyway, however unlikely it was that he would randomly see Asahi again.

He was always on the lookout for Asahi though, just in case. He had to come to Tokyo at some point or another, didn’t he? And sure Tokyo was a _gigantic_ city, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that they’d run into each other, was it? The world was small after all, and Noya told himself that if the universe wanted him and Asahi to rekindle whatever it was they had—or forge something new—then it would happen.

Of course it happened when and how Noya least expected it, even though Noya hadn’t realized he was expecting it at a particular time or place.

In his mind, he pictured walking down busy sidewalk in the daytime, businessmen and businesswomen hurrying to or from their jobs; Asahi always towered over the heads of everyone else around him and he always looked like he did in high school—long hair, chin scruff, even the black uniform jacket that they always wore. In his mind, Nishinoya always saw Asahi first.

But this was not daytime; it was night. It wasn’t a busy business thoroughfare, but a quiet little road. Noya was walking home from a long day of classes and practice, and there was almost nobody else on the street besides him. He was tired and sweaty distractedly thinking about all of the things he still had to get done before the end of the week when he heard it from the door of the hole-in-the-wall bar he was walking by.

A familiar voice, deeper and more assertive than he was used to, but _unmistakably_ belonging to the person whose memory had been haunting him the last month or so, uttered his name. A question, as if uncertain if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

“Noya-san?"

Noya turned at stared, and no wonder he hadn’t noticed Asahi standing there—he looked very little like the Asahi he had last seen. His long hair had been cut short, his facial hair had been shaved off, and he was wearing a button-down and dress pants instead of a jacket or volleyball jersey. The eyes were Asahi’s though—kind and warm and just the slightest bit worried. As Noya’s mind tried to reconcile his memories and his emotions with the present situation—so unexpected!—he felt his jaw drop and his eyes widen as though he had seen a ghost.

“Nishinoya,” Asahi said, a worried, unsure forming on his face. Nishinoya was struck with just how _young_ Asahi had been in his memory. The person in front of him was a _man_ —tall and filled in as he had been in high school, but with the unmistakable appearance of someone who had grown into himself. The last time he had seen Asahi he had been three years younger than Noya was today. It was incredible to think about—the last time he had seen Asahi, neither of them had ever had a legal drink or lived on their own or stepped foot outside of Miyagi by themselves.

Noya shook himself out of his thoughts because here was Asahi standing right in front of him, and it was obvious that he was scared by Noya’s silence. “Asahi-san” he started, a little breathlessly. “What are you _doing_ here?”

The smile on Asahi’s face widened until it was sheepish and full, just like Noya remembered.   “Just like you, Noya-san, to be so blunt,” he said lightly, not offended. He scratched at the hair at the base of his neck nervously—that was classic Asahi too, and Noya felt just the littlest bit of vertigo. Asahi continued, (and his voice was just as kind and low as he remembered!) “I just moved here to work in the Tokyo office for my job. You’re in college around here, aren’t you?”

“I am!” Nishinoya exclaimed, too thrilled with Asahi’s presence to know what to say or do. He stepped closer to Asahi because they were standing too far apart. “I graduate in a few weeks, actually!”

Asahi closed his eyes and shook his head, the quiet noises of nighttime hummed around him, and it was all of a sudden _just like the past_ , even though people said that the past could never be reclaimed. It was Miyagi after volleyball practice—quiet and dark and serene. “That’s crazy. We’re both so old compared to back then. Time really flies, huh?”

“It does,” Noya agreed, nodding vehemently.

“To be completely honest,” Asahi started, hesitantly taking a step towards Noya. “I was sort of _hoping_ I would run into you.” All of a sudden he blinked and ran a hand through his thick hair. “I hope that’s not weird! My work is around the corner, so wasn’t _trying_ to find you, but when I heard I would be working so close to your school, I couldn’t help but think of you, you know?”

Noya felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, and he remembered for the umpteenth time the promise he made to himself on a night so similar to this one, humming with cicadas and the magic of memory. _If I see you again…_

“It’s not weird, Asahi-san. I’ve been thinking about you recently too.”

Asahi smiled, surprised, and Noya’s heartstrings tugged at him again. He remembered that smile and all of the good times that came with it.

Noya took a deep breath and steeled himself to say what he had been waiting to say because, even though this was an abrupt encounter, he wouldn’t surrender the chance to speak to Asahi to fate again. “The truth is Asahi-san, I haven’t missed you as much as I thought I would when you graduated from Karasuno. I’m sure you haven’t missed me that much either! But I realized the other day that even though we haven’t spoken recently, the memory of you is still one of the most important things in the world to me. You were an amazing person to me in high school, even though I didn’t know everything about you, and you didn’t know everything about me! I realized that if you needed something in Miyagi, I would still find a way to have your back in Tokyo! Because you being good to me has made _me_ a good person… I think.”

Asahi looked at him, his expression wistful. “You were the best person I knew in high school, Noya,” he admitted, his voice soft and reassuring. “I can’t imagine anything could have changed that much.”

“I promised myself if I saw you again, I’d tell you just _how much_ you meant to me back then. Just…every little thing you did was just what I needed at the point in my life, and I…I know it won’t be the same as it was in high school, but…”

Noya looked up into Asahi’s eyes and was surprised to find them the slightest bit teary. He was smiling though, much to Noya’s relief. “I promised myself that when I saw you, I’d say something pretty similar to what you just said to me,” Asahi admitted, slightly embarrassed. “You gave me the ability to have confidence in myself, Noya. That’s pretty invaluable. Sure things won’t be the same as they were in high school, but maybe that’s a good thing. I’ll always be here for you, if you want me.”

In his imagination, Noya had thought that he’d feel happy, but emotions were a little bit beyond him at this point in reality—it was just so surreal. “So now what, Asahi-san?”

Asahi actually laughed, and Noya did too. It was just too real and too much not to be funny. “Well, we’re outside of a bar, and I could use a beer,” Asahi said, voice still mirthful. “What do you say?”

There were cicadas humming, but all around them were the sounds and smells of Tokyo. Cars honked and rolled past on the busy road a few blocks to the east, the clamor of the bar was right behind them, and the distinct smell of the city floated in the air. This was not Miyagi, and not even Miyagi itself could make life the same as it was back then, when they were younger and more hopeful.

But change didn’t have to be a bad thing. Noya had realized already that he couldn’t think of a time or place where he would _want_ to be disconnected from Asahi. He was sure now, he wanted Asahi in his life in a meaningful way—just not as a meaningful _acquaintance_.

“I say,” Noya began, clapping Asahi on the back with his right hand and opening the door to the bar with his left, “that drinks sound like the perfect place to start.”

**Author's Note:**

> High School was by no means as nice for me as I like to think it was for Nishinoya, but there were definitely people whose small words and actions made me feel like it (and I) was worth it. Shout out to them on this--they'll probably never know what they did for me, but I won't forget it. Be good to each other out there, folks! 
> 
> ALWAYS feel free to scream about fandom and volleyball idiots with me at [my blog](batbrood.tumblr.com)!


End file.
